


i love you, don't you mind?

by AllYourFriends



Category: The 1975 (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27526015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllYourFriends/pseuds/AllYourFriends
Summary: I knew I had fucked up, even though I really didn't mean to. He kept doing the same thing over and over: right hand through his hair, then left hand over his face, then both to his lap. I couldn't stand it anymore, but i couldn't leave. I had to stay, just sit there and watch him and try not to make things worse.
Relationships: George Daniel/Matthew Healy
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	i love you, don't you mind?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first fanfic ever so please be nice. I had some problems with the ending, so if it sucks, I'm sorry. hope you like it!

_I love you._

I knew I had fucked up, even though I really didn't mean to. He kept doing the same thing over and over: right hand through his hair, then left hand over his face, then both to his lap. I couldn't stand it anymore, but i couldn't leave. I had to stay, just sit there and watch him and try not to make things worse. I knew he was crying, something I had only seen him do a few times during the entirety of our friendship: when we got signed, when we did our first payed show, when he read the bad reviews of our first album, when he read the good ones of our second, when we had to say goodbye before I went to rehab. If it was anyone else, they probably would've missed it, but i knew George. His breathing changed, his posture changed, he kept rocking back and forth trying to make the tears go away. Then he did it again: right hand through his hair, then left hand over his face, then both to his lap.

_I'm sorry._

I knew I had to leave. Leave him alone, leave that room, get up and walk and keep walking until there was as much distance between us as possible. I think that’s what he wanted me to do, but he would never say it. As my brain tried to get my body to move, George turned towards me, but he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were closed, then opened but staring at the floor, then at my knees, my chest, my mouth, then finally my eyes. George opened his mouth, but it didn't look like he wanted to talk. He sighed, closed his mouth and stared at the floor again. I wanted to say something, anything, but I couldn’t find the right words. There was nothing to say. Nothing that would make it better for either of us.

_Please, say something._

“I love you,” the way he let the words out made it sound like it pained him. Like he’d much rather keep that information to himself, put these unwanted feelings in a box, hide it and pretend this never happened. Then, in an almost inaudible whisper added: “so _fucking_ much”. I know he thinks I didn't hear that. I will never tell him I did.

“I’m sorry,” right hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry,” left hand over his face. “I should leave,” both hands to his lap. “Fuck!” I pressed my eyes with the heels of my hands as hard as I could, trying not to cry. “I’m sorry George,” I stood up. He didn't stop me. I walked across the room. He said nothing. I opened the door. He sighed. I stayed.

_I didn't mean it._

“I’m just trying to understand why Matty, that’s all,” he sighed again. He was getting frustrated. I was scared he would get angry, and I couldn't risk that happening. That’s not how I wanted this whole thing to go.

“I don’t know why I said that. I wish I could explain what happened, I wish I could just tell you but I don’t know why it happened”

_Please don't hate me._

“Those things don’t just happen Matty. You let it happen,” he said loudly. He never raised his voice. That’s something I liked about him. I was suddenly terrified that I had broken something inside him, that despite my best efforts to keep him safe and happy I had managed to break his heart. If I had changed George for the worse I would never forgive myself. Still, I knew he wasn’t sure of what he had said: trying to control your feelings is futile and acting this was a decision didn't change that fact.

_Can we just pretend I never said anything?_

I sat back down and stared at the blank wall in front of me. Part of me wished I didn't tell him. It would have killed me, but at least George would be happy and that was all I wanted. If George was happy, so was I. I would do anything for him, and that mere thought petrified me. What was I supposed to do if George didn't want me in his life after this? Was I supposed to stay here and watch him leave and never come back? Would he even leave in the first place? Or would he just tell me to forget about this and act like we were okay?

“George, I really am sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said anything but please, please don't hate me. I can live with anyone else hating me, but not you. Please,” I begged.

_I don’t want things to change between us._

“I don’t hate you… but you have to understand,” he said after a few minutes of him staring at the floor and me trying not to make a sound while I cried. God, I hate crying. “You and I both know it’s for the best,” I could tell he was trying his hardest to stay calm, but as I predicted he failed miserably. “But you only think about yourself, don’t you? You only care about yourself and your feelings and what you want. It’s all about _you,_ isn't it?”

I knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to hurt me, he wanted me to hate him after this so I left and he was free of guilt. George wasn't a bad person: I was convinced there wasn't a bad bone inside of him. But this was different. This wasn't the George I knew and loved. He said he loved me but I could almost see his brain changing his definition of _love_ as the words came out of his mouth. He wasn’t as sure as he used to be.

_George?_

“Is that really what you think?” he looked up at me like he couldn't believe I had asked such a stupid question, like I wasn’t paying attention to what he said before. “You really think I don’t care about you? About Adam? Ross? About anyone but myself?” I whispered. “After all this time, you still think I’m the same person used to be. It doesn't matter how hard I try to change, it’ll never be good enough for you, will it? You’ll always see me as a selfish, lying dick.”

“Isn’t that what you told me, though?” he said with a sad smile, and for a second I felt like I was about to throw up. He knew the scene was replaying inside my head, but he wanted to rub salt in the wound and I wasn't about to deprive him of that pleasure. “That this, all of this,” he said waving his arms around, “was because of you. That we were nothing without you. That we could either do what you wanted or leave.”

_I know you’re angry but please._

I tried not to let him see how much this hurt me. I tried not to let his words get to me because I knew he was just doing it to make me feel worse, to brake what was left of my heart, but he was succeeding and all i could do was think and think and think, like I was watching the same movie over and over again: I know how things play out, I know the ending but I can’t look away.

_“Look George, I don’t care about your feelings, or your thoughts, or whatever other bullshit you want to talk about. You know this is all about me. You know it, I know it, everyone fucking knows it. You’re just scared to admit it. Now, the way I see it, you can either get on board with this thing and things stay as they are now, or you can fuck off and and go back to being nothing. It’s your choice.”_

This was not how George and I were. I had a hard time talking about how I felt, sometimes even with George. I lied and hid things and acted like nothing was wrong, even if that hurt me even more. But George always meant every word he said. He was careful. He thought things through. He never spoke if he didn't feel like he had to and he would never try to purposely hurt anyone. That’s how we were before.

“Nothing has changed Matty. It’s still all about you. You always want to make things easier for yourself.”

“That’s not true.”

“Not true?”

_I’ll leave if that’s what you want._

“Then tell me: what do I get out of losing my best friend? Should I be happy with the fact that you just ruined 17, 18 years of friendship just because you needed, no, you _wanted_ to talk about your feelings?”

I still wasn't sure if he was angry because I’d said it or because I felt that way in the first place.

“I know you’ll hate me after this, but I don’t regret it,” I said trying to look into his eyes, but he was looking everywhere but me. “I’m not sorry George. _I love you._ I know you love me too, and I don’t care if it’s not in the same way. But please don’t say I ruined our friendship. Don’t you dare say that. Please,” I said, and my thoughts started to make more sense in my head. “I don’t regret telling you.”

_I’ll leave you alone now but please…_

“If you don’t want to talk to me ever again that’s fine, but I needed you to know,” I was sure I had never say anything with such confidence. Yes, my heart was broken. Yes, my best friend probably hated me now. But after what he had said, after bringing stuff up that we both promised to put behind us, I cared less about him and more about being honest. If George wanted the truth, then this was it. No matter how ugly he thought it was, this was me being honest, and I wouldn’t let him change his mind now.

His silence didn't worry me anymore. I loved him and I wasn’t sorry. I knew this was the price to pay. I knew that before the words left my mouth. I told myself over and over again: _he asked for the truth, he told you to be honest, he made you promise you would be sincere._

“I just needed you to know”

_Don’t leave me George._

I stood up again. I didn't look at him until I reached the door. Then, I turned around and he was looking back at me. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. I’m still not sure what he was sorry for. Part of me think he doesn’t know either. Whatever he meant, it was too late for me to care.

“I wanted you to know George.”

_I love you._


End file.
